


yahaba vs. the miyagi captains

by blessings



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Humor, M/M, clout chaser!kunimi, legally classified as crack but this is my truth, roastmaster!yahaba
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22107526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blessings/pseuds/blessings
Summary: “I want an apology first.”“For what?” Futakuchi asks incredulously.Kentarou’s self-preservation instincts activate again and he lunges to cover Yahaba’s mouth. Yahaba catches him with one hand pressed against his chest, which gets Kentarou’s heart racing out of fear exclusively, and not anything else.“For making me look at your face for so long,” he says sweetly.Three times Kyoutani had to hold Yahaba back, and one time he didn’t.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Kyoutani Kentarou, Kyoutani Kentarou & Yahaba Shigeru, Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru
Comments: 74
Kudos: 1131





	yahaba vs. the miyagi captains

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taketotheskies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taketotheskies/gifts).



> this is part writing team-up/part gift to [eloise](https://twitter.com/jellieplant) because she said “5 times kyoutani had to hold yahaba back and one time he didn't” and lit my brain on fire. and then i tapped out at 3 times. but i kept the energy i hope

1.

Contrary to popular belief, Kentarou’s never actually been in a fight. 

He’s always figured it would take a lot to get anyone to start swinging at him, because he’s not inclined to start himself. He’s completely aware that his attitude is shitty (like, he can hear himself speak) but it’s the kinda shitty where it’s easier for him to step away than it is to push back. And it’s weird that this always comes as a surprise, but Kentarou isn’t exactly foaming at the mouth to experience what it’s like to be punched in the nose.

His fucking captain seems hellbent on changing that, though.

“It’s because they don’t respect you,” Yahaba says politely, across the net. “And who can blame them?”

Futakuchi’s shoulders rise up slightly, even as he struggles to attract his setter’s attention away from tossing water bottles in the air so he can line up and they can start the fucking game. He doesn’t reply, but Kentarou doesn’t like the look No Eyebrows in the back is giving him. 

Not Yahaba. Him. Because of course, Yahaba can run his mouth about other captains’ mothers all he wants and Kentarou will still get pegged as the troubled one.

He checks over his shoulder to see if he has any backup this time. Kindaichi looks impressively pale, Kunimi looks impressively bored, and Watari looks impressively useless, snickering at Futakuchi’s expression. Kentarou’s landed himself on a team with a bunch of self-destructive assholes. 

He’s these assholes’ vice captain, though, so he’ll be damned if anything happens to them on his watch. 

“Yahaba,” he hisses, elbowing him in the ribs.

“What,” Yahaba snaps, turning on him. Something primal in Kentarou, probably the instinct that kept his ancestors from eating brightly colored bugs and strange berries, shies away.

He ignores it. “You’re scaring Kindaichi.” 

“And these idiots, too, hopefully,” Yahaba says primly. 

Futakuchi finally gives up on his setter, throwing his hands up and turning on Yahaba. “We are literally right here.”

“That’s the point,” Yahaba spits. “Otherwise I would have to raise my voice.”

The fucking giant still hasn’t stopped staring at Kentarou and oh great, now he’s pointing at him. He tries not to let it get to him as he tugs on Yahaba’s sleeve. “Yahaba, godammit. Let’s line up.”

“I want an apology first.”

“For what?” Futakuchi asks incredulously. 

Kentarou’s self-preservation instincts activate again and he lunges to cover Yahaba’s mouth. Yahaba catches him with one hand pressed against his chest, which gets Kentarou’s heart racing out of fear exclusively, and not anything else.

“For making me look at your face for so long,” he says sweetly. 

Kentarou exhales slowly as Kindaichi squeaks in terror. 

Futakuchi doesn’t look like the type to get in physical fights either, but Yahaba’s bored and backed him into a corner in front of his team. So Kentarou doesn’t blame him for the way he storms under the net, awkwardly ducking under it and getting in Yahaba’s face. He seems unsure what to do next, but Yahaba is an expert at getting the other guy to throw the first hit and getting off with just self-defense. 

It’s time to intervene.

“Kunimi, put the damn phone away,” Kentarou snarls as he shoves Yahaba behind him, holding his hands up against Futakuchi’s approach. “He’s sorry.”

“Uh, no I’m fucking not--”

Kentarou raises his voice over Yahaba’s and bows. “He’s very sorry, and he’s going to shut up now or his ace will accidentally spike a ball into his face.”

There’s another startled squeak from Kindaichi’s general area and a low whistle from Watari. Kentarou knows that when he raises his head, it will be to Kunimi’s phone focused on his face. He’s probably already on his Instagram story. His reputation still hasn't recovered from that one post of him lifting Yahaba off of the court during their nightmare practice match with Johzenji. Kunimi captioned it "need a relationship like this," then added a bunch of emojis that Kentarou guesses might be inappropriate if you thought about it too hard. 

He keeps his head down to avoid being recognized by any of the friends Kunimi miraculously made between napping and being a dick. Kentarou also shoves Yahaba’s head down in a mockery of a bow, ‘cause he’s pretty sure Yahaba has his middle finger raised anyway, and shuffles backwards to get in line.

“Um. Okay. Yeah, you better run,” Futakuchi says, looking a little lost as he backs under the net without taking his eyes off Seijou. 

Datekou’s antennae-haired setter has finally landed a water bottle and joined up with the rest of his team, so they’re free to actually play volleyball now. What’s with the hair? Is it a furry thing? Why would he do that to himself.

“What’s with the--” Yahaba tries to ask, before Kentarou just fucking tackles him into Watari’s side. He nearly topples over with a yell, but that’s what he gets for being an enabler and the shortest. Now half of the team is tangled up, but on the bright side Kunimi finally put his damn phone away.

"Get off, fuckos," he drones, shoving at them with his shoulder. Kindaichi whimpers. 

"Tell your _mom_ to get off--" Yahaba starts, before Kentarou leaps onto his back, starting another round of struggling. 

“Alright, well,” the ref says. “Let’s just, uh. Get started.”

\---

They win the practice match, which Kentarou can’t even be bothered to celebrate on the ride home ‘cause now Yahaba is _vindicated_. He can sense the righteousness coming off him in waves, radiating from the point where their shoulders are touching. Yahaba’s almost leaning against him, eyes drooping, tired from setting and bullying people.

Kentarou is staring a little. He almost can’t tell that there’s an evil gremlin in Yahaba’s brain that demands blood when he’s soft like this.

“Something bothering you, Kyoutani-kun?” Yahaba asks. Kentarou doesn’t jump, but he does pale. He’s been found out. 

“Your shitty attitude. Asshole,” Kentarou replies, because, well. He’s repressed.

Yahaba shuffles around in his seat, bumping his forehead against Kentarou’s arm and eyeing him from under his bangs. Kentarou curses the damn bus seats for being so close together, making it feel like there’s no one else in the world but them. 

“I’m just trying to be honest. I thought you would respect that.”

“You could be honest quietly.”

“You could be more honest in general.”

What the fuck. “What’s that-- what’s that supposed to mean.”

Yahaba just eyes him. Kentarou tries to stare in the same innocent, guileless way, but dammit. He’s always honest. He’s basically an open book. He can’t just put a mask on like Yahaba so no one can tell when he’s about to start swinging.

“Fine, whatever, keep your-- your secrets. Your mysteries,” he grumbles.

Yahaba, finally, fully lowers his head to his shoulder. “I think I was helpful today. Most people are too nice to each other. And that’s why Futakuchi’s like that.”

His hair is so fluffy. It's tickling his ear. Coming back to volleyball was a fucking mistake. 

2.

The _issue_ is that Kentarou doesn't disagree with Yahaba most of the time. 

“Who cut your hair? Did they use a protractor to do it?” Yahaba says, and see, that's not wrong, Shirabu’s hair does look precisely angular. But since Shirabu looks like he’s about to disagree in a violent way, Kentarou has to step in and act like he isn’t wondering the same thing. 

He hates his job so fucking much. He really is genuinely curious. And now he’ll never know.

They stopped for snacks on their way to the station because Kentarou is a spineless coward who can’t resist any of Yahaba’s requests. He wanted something sweet for after practice, and Kentarou would commit armed robbery to make sure he got it. Whatever, he’s still more well-adjusted than Yahaba, which might be an indictment on his taste-- anyway, Shiratorizawa’s bastard captain was in the same store, and now Kentarou might actually have to do a robbery to get Yahaba out of here alive. Because Yahaba is pissy, but Shiratori’s captain is batshit. He’s brandishing a candy bar like a weapon.

“Compensating for something?” Yahaba sneers, and Kentarou quietly astral projects for a minute.

When he comes to, Shiratorizawa’s new ace has decided to walk in. Kentarou takes one look and feels his stomach drop in fear.

“Yahaba,” he pleads.

“What’s this now?” Yahaba says loudly. “Do you all get it done at the same place?”

 _Do they?_ Kentarou briefly wonders, before coming to his senses.

Ushijima’s replacement, but with too many emotions this time, blinks in confusion. “Get what done?”

“I don’t know, whatever you call that thing on top of your head.”

The poor guy, bless him, starts patting his hair, and now Kentarou is really truly shaking. Mostly from trying to hold in his laughter, but also from fear.

"Shirabu-san," the kid turns to his captain for assistance, not surprised enough, in Kentarou's opinion, at how red he's turned. "Are they bothering us?" 

What the fuck is with that phrasing. Can't he tell? 

"They're always a bother," Shirabu snarls, (like, actually snarls, in a rabid way). "But they've decided to do it where we can see them, for some reason."

"I don't care how much money your parents are hoarding from the rest of us, Shiratorizawa doesn't have a monopoly on corner stores," Yahaba says. "Dick for brains."

"Eat shit, bitch."

Kentarou lunges to get Yahaba out of that store as fast as possible before he snaps. Well, snaps more than he has since they lost to Karasuno. 

He tugs him frantically towards the door, loudly humming along to the music coming out of the store speakers so Shiratorizawa can't hear that Yahaba just told them their fathers will never see them as anything other than investments. They were risking arrest just by proximity to Shirabu and now they're about to send him off the deep end. 

The poor baby ace looks like he's heard the devil's whisper, hands actually raised halfway to his ears. "Dick for brains?" he whispers. 

Yahaba inhales. Kentarou takes him by the hand and starts sprinting. 

They don't stop until they arrive at an alley that Kentarou can shove him into, quickly following behind him. Yahaba is eerily unbothered, as usual. Kentarou takes one look at his stupid puff hair and wide eyes, remembers that pout forming the words _dick for brains_ , and proceeds to lose his shit. 

"Why are you laughing," Yahaba asks, snorting a little himself. 

"The fuckin'-- did you see-- hair," Kentarou gets out, hoping it made some sense. 

"They deserve it," Yahaba declares, not defensively. 

They do. "Fucking Shiratorizawa," Kentarou says. 

"Fucking Shiratorizawa," Yahaba agrees solemnly. "We need to remind them that they suck, their nannies don't do it enough."

"Maybe not where they can have us arrested, though."

"Don't tell me what to do."

Kentarou sighs, already resigned to having his resting heart rate be at heart attack levels anytime Yahaba's around. It's pretty pathetic. 

"I'm still hungry," Yahaba says. 

"I'll get you something," Kentarou promises, immediately, and then questions again what went wrong in his childhood to make him like this. 

3.

And it’s like, Yahaba doesn’t even hate those other guys. Kentarou is pretty sure that half of the shit that comes out of his mouth is his way of asking for attention. He treats his captaincy like it’s free therapy.

But Karasuno. Fucking Karasuno. Kentarou can get behind a little trash-talking when it comes to the damn crows. 

Unfortunately, Kentarou learns that when Yahaba actually, truly hates someone, he doesn’t trash talk so much as he makes statements that would get him thrown in jail if presented as evidence in court. 

“Careful doing those warm-ups!” Yahaba calls over the net. “Would hate to see any of your frail bodies crumble under the pressure before we can crush you ourselves.” 

And then he smiles sweetly at Ennoshita, who looks disturbingly unaffected. He’s the only chill one on that team, though, because it looks like Baldy is about to rip his shirt off, and Shrimpy’s doing that weird ass glowy eye thing at them.

Kentarou really has to step in, since this is the fucking Interhigh and they’re not about to be the team that gets disqualified for making career-ending threats at their opponents. Karasuno has also, historically, been stupid unpredictable and he doesn't want one of them to snipe him with a volleyball because his hair makes him an easier target than Captain Cream Puff. 

" _Captain,"_ he hisses. "Focus."

“I am focused. On breaking their souls.” Kentarou closes his eyes and rests his forehead against a volleyball. Yahaba continues, “What are you focused on, Kyoutani-kun?”

“Winning,” he growls.

“Same thing,” Yahaba hums, sliding closer to the net. Kentarou, helpless, follows him. 

“Did Shrimpy get taller, or are those just new sneakers?” Yahaba asks critically, almost like he’s only talking to Kentarou except he’s looking right at Hinata while he says it.

Hinata makes one of those popped balloon noises, all _gwahhh_ and _bwuh_ , and Ennoshita actually frowns at Yahaba, which must mean he’s about to deck him. His expression quickly turns to exasperation as Tanaka meanders over, already scowling.

“What’s it to ya, cream puff hair?” he snarls. Kentarou wipes any sign of his approval of the nickname off his face. 

“Ignore them, Tanaka,” Ennoshita drawls. “We have more important things to work on.”

“Nice attempt at having a backbone,” Yahaba says encouragingly, which is how Kentarou knows he’s five minutes away from throwing down.

Ennoshita’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t rise to the bait. What Kentarou wouldn’t do for an emotionally stable captain like that. “Thanks. I try.”

Yahaba’s head tilts almost imperceptibly, and Kentarou swings around to stand in front of him. 

“Alright. Time to go,” he says.

“No, I’m busy watching the circus.”

Hearing the offended shrieks from Tanaka and Hinata, Karasuno’s lanky middle blocker, Tsukishima, saunters over. Kentarou hasn’t had many chances to interact with him past trying to slam volleyballs through his arms, but he has that same barely awake look that he gets when blocking that Kentarou knows is a threat. 

“What’s all the ruckus?” he drones, not even bothering to look at Yahaba, instead focusing on the match getting started in the adjacent court. Kentarou winces, knowing that being deprived of attention is going to set him off.

“It’s the clown shoes squeaking--”

"Why are we wasting time talking to Oikawa Junior?" Tsukishima continues, talking over him. His glasses actually flash, like he's some sort of nerd villain. 

“Fuck,” Kentarou says, out loud, completely against his will.

Yahaba goes incredibly still, which makes his heart stop. He grabs his hand on instinct, prepared for the worst. Instead, Yahaba calmly turns around and heads straight for their bench where everyone is huddled up. He drags Kentarou along with him by his hand, which he is way too pleased by. 

He waits for some kind of reaction, but Yahaba is as unreadable to him as he used to be during their first year. When he does move, it's to turn on Kentarou. 

“Listen up,” Yahaba snarls, slamming his hands down on Kentarou’s shoulders and getting right in his face. There's not enough time to flinch away and he's not sure he wants to. “You will go out there, I will set the ball to you, and then you will _slam it down their throats_ , got it?” Without waiting for a response, he turns delicately on one foot and marches out to the court.

“Got it,” Kentarou says, a little delayed. He’s lost track of the passage of time. 

“Oh no. Oh, look at you. This is so sad,” Watari cackles like a fucking idiot, pointing at whatever expression Kentarou’s making. 

“Shut _up_ ,” he snaps ineffectually through gritted teeth. Watari just doubles over and laughs harder.

"Sad," Kunimi agrees.

Kentarou figures that the only thing he can do to escape is get on the damn court, but when he turns around Yahaba is already glaring. He points directly at him, then slowly turns his hand over and crooks his finger. He’s moving forward before he registers his mistake, but he isn’t too bothered by the consequences. Watari suffocating from laughter feels like some sort of justice. 

He stands at Yahaba’s side, facing down Karasuno with him. He’s got a glare going that would take down a weaker team. But they’re up against the champions this time.

Which means Kentarou’s gonna go out there. Yahaba’s gonna set the ball. And they’re gonna slam it down Karasuno’s throats.

“I hope they go home crying,” Yahaba declares loudly. The slope of his nose looks particularly vicious as he does.

Why is he so into this? Why is he into this. 

+1

Kentarou gets so upset over his wack taste in men that he reaches out to Iwaizumi-san when he gets home. His phone is filled with Iwaizumi’s laughing face for five minutes straight before he takes several gasping breaths and says, solemnly, “Don’t fuck around with setters, kid.”

“But I--”

“They’re all like that. All of them. It’s the hyper-focus.” 

“But aren’t you--”

“Yes. He’s the same.” 

Kentarou lies down. “I’m-- confused?”

“Hey,” Iwaizumi says. “Look at you, talking about your feelings. I’m proud of you, bud.”

Kentarou rolls over so he won’t see him tear up. “Aren’t you living with Oikawa?”

“Yeah, I have to stop him from getting murdered by other teams like, all the time. He’s way more subtle about it though. He makes it sound like a compliment.” And now his tone is getting weirdly-- wistful? It clicks when Iwaizumi continues, “He’s so smart. It’s like...no one but me can tell he’s a dick. I love him so much.”

Kentarou has the terrifying feeling that he’s talking to the future version of himself. 

“You want some advice, right?” Iwaizumi says. Kentarou nods frantically. “Just let it go, man. Stop being nice. Go apeshit.”

Kentarou’s whole world view shifts a few degrees to the left. “You mean, let Yahaba call Ennoshita the clown captain of the clown bunch?”

“Eh, maybe not to that extent -- also, holy shit he said that? That’s fucking hilarious -- but a little trash-talking is fine. You gotta find what works for both of you, and neither of you are the type for flowers and shit, you know? Frankly, he might like that you’re tough with him--”

“ _OkaythanksIhavetodohomeworknow_ ,” Kentarou interrupts in a panic.

“I’m proud of you for sticking it out this long,” Iwaizumi says. “I went over to the dark side in the fourth grade.” 

Kentarou makes no comment. He strongly disagrees with the possibility that his mentor is anything less than the greatest ever. 

“Hey, do you wanna talk about the game? Or not yet?” Iwaizumi asks, getting settled on his couch. 

“Not...not yet,” Kentarou decides. He needs to keep everything he’s feeling locked up until after he sleeps, so he’ll have the words for it in the morning. 

“Sounds good. Did I tell you about the shit the ace Oikawa’s working with pulled the other day? The absolute madman.” 

Kentarou tucks himself in so he doesn’t have to get out of bed when Iwaizumi’s done. He wants him to figure out how to work with Yahaba, but he doesn’t remember them working together better than that time he got slammed into a wall in front of like, a hundred people. Yahaba dropping his mask and showing how angry he actually is, all the time, was the first time Kentarou related to him. And Yahaba going around calling other captains shitlips or dickwad or whatever combination of swears he’s come up with is the most real he’s been.

They’ve been having fun, this whole season. 

“Sometimes the people we love go feral for no reason,” Iwaizumi says, before he signs off. “But we still love every part of them.”

\---

Kentarou sees Yahaba the next day, which makes him really happy even though it's a Sunday and they're meeting at the school gym. They’re reviewing the tapes from yesterday’s match, even though they theoretically could be taking it easy. But Yahaba seems intent on carrying on the Seijou captain tradition of getting right up against the line between dedication and obsession, so Kentarou figures he should carry on the vice captain tradition of being there to cut it off after an hour.

Besides, it’s hard to complain when Yahaba is holding the tablet up for the both of them to see, one earbud between the both of them and Yahaba curled up against his arm.

“Why does Kageyama just...stand there when he’s not playing?” Yahaba mumbles. “He’s like a robot that only works when it’s setting.”

“‘Cause his head’s empty,” Kentarou grunts. “Only volleyballs up there. Bounce, bounce.”

"Bounce bounce," Yahaba echoes, then he giggles, like a real, genuine giggle that almost knocks Kentarou out, before swinging his head around to stare at Kentarou. 

“That was kind of rude, Kyoutani,” he scolds. 

“I’m rude. Fuck off.”

Yahaba shakes his head slowly. “No, you’re a goody two-shoes who needs to get his brows filled in.” 

Kentarou snorts. Yahaba grins, pressing closer.

“Protector of the weak. Defender of all weenie teams in Miyagi.”

“I’m just trying to do my job.” Kentarou shrugs helplessly. 

“Do I bother you?” Yahaba asks suddenly, head tilted. “Do I get in the way of you doing your job?”

“No, never,” he responds instinctively, but stops himself. Kentarou thinks about it-- really considers it, before answering again, “It doesn’t make a difference to me. I’ll be there to back you up no matter what.”

Yahaba’s eyes widen at that (they’re so stupid pretty, all sparkly for no reason, what’s up with that) and he leans closer. 

"I like it when you’re honest. I mean, I still think you could keep it between us, but, I like--" And here Kentarou cuts himself off, considering all the ways he could end that sentence and choosing to stop there. “I like you.”

Yahaba's eyes get even more stupid sparkly at that, but his grin is still a little mean. Kentarou kinda more than likes it.

“Even when I tell Terushima he dresses like a college student who peaked in high school?” Yahaba asks, gaze darting between Kentarou's eyes and something lower.

“You’re trying to get in their heads, right? But you’re already--” Kentarou leans forward, bumps their foreheads together-- “stuck in mine.”

Yahaba’s right up in his face now, but Kentarou’s heart is racing for an entirely different reason. And when he tugs on his shirt, closes his eyes, and leans in, Kentarou doesn’t stop him. 

**Author's Note:**

> ty again to elo for her stellar yahaba characterization and love for kyoutani <3
> 
> find me on [twitter,](https://twitter.com/miraclse) etc. before s4 starts so u can watch the meltdown [blessings.carrd.co](https://blessings.carrd.co/)


End file.
